Pear & Ricotta “Little Beggar’s Purses”

Pear & Ricotta Beggar’s Purses with Parmesan Cream Sauce

By: Ashlyn Walters / Southern Hospitality Company

Apparently Italians have known forever that pears and cheese belong together. There’s even an old Italian saying that basically translates to:
“Don’t let the peasants know how good pears and cheese are together.”

Which honestly feels very fitting for a pasta literally called beggar’s purses.

Tiny hand-pinched pasta bundles filled with creamy cheese, pears, herbs, or nuts have been floating around Northern Italian cooking forever and somehow manage to feel both rustic and wildly elegant at the same time. Rich egg pasta. Browned butter. Parmesan. Cream sauces. Walnuts. Sage. It’s the kind of food that makes you immediately want wine and candlelight even if it’s only 5:30 on a Tuesday.

The first time I had them was at La Grotta in Atlanta, which feels like one of those restaurants you’re almost not supposed to know about. You walk into this completely unassuming building in Buckhead, take an elevator downstairs, and suddenly you’re in this old-world Italian dining room with white tablecloths, waiters in black vests, tiny glowing lamps, and some of the best pasta in the city.

Their little beggar’s purses are one of those dishes people order over and over again for a reason.

And yes, the idea of pear in pasta initially sounded slightly suspicious to me too.

My husband was firmly against the concept.

Fruit? Inside dinner? Absolutely not.

And naturally, they were fantastic.

Sweet pear melts into creamy ricotta and parmesan in this almost ridiculous way that somehow tastes rich and savory instead of sweet. Add fresh pasta, browned butter, parmesan cream sauce, cracked black pepper, and herbs and suddenly everyone at the table goes quiet for a minute.

Which is exactly why I came home and made my own version.

A little more rustic. A little more buttery. A little more “I own a KitchenAid pasta attachment and now believe I’m an old Italian grandmother trapped in a blonde woman’s body.”

And honestly? Making filled pasta from scratch is dramatically easier than people pretend it is.

Ingredients

For the Pasta Dough

2 cups “00” flour
1/2 cup semolina flour
3 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
1 tablespoon olive oil
Pinch of kosher salt

For the Filling

1 container Bellwether Farms Basket Ricotta (see note above about my love for this brand)
1 ripe pear, finely diced
1/2 cup toasted walnuts
3/4 cup freshly grated parmesan
Small handful fresh basil
Tiny pinch nutmeg
Salt and black pepper
Zest of a lemon

For the Parmesan Cream Sauce

Tiny squeeze lemon
4 tablespoons butter
2 garlic cloves
Fresh thyme or sage
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup parmesan
Splash of pasta water
Black pepper

Download PDF of Recipe HERE

A Few Thoughts Before We Start

Fresh pasta dough is one of those things people overcomplicate into oblivion. You do not need a nonna hovering over your shoulder judging your hydration levels. You just need enough flour, enough egg yolks, and the confidence to keep kneading when it looks questionable.

Traditional egg dough is usually:

100 grams flour per egg
Or roughly:
- 2 cups flour
- 3 whole eggs
- 2 yolks

The extra yolks make the dough silkier and richer, which matters when you’re doing filled pasta. I usually use Italian “00” flour mixed with a little semolina because I like the texture, but all-purpose flour absolutely works.

Farm fresh or pasture-raised eggs make a noticeable difference here. The yolks are richer, deeper in color, and give the dough that gorgeous golden tone that makes homemade pasta look expensive in the best possible way.

If your dough feels:

too dry → wet your hands and keep kneading
too sticky → dust with flour
ugly → congratulations, you’re making pasta correctly

The KitchenAid pasta roller attachment has genuinely become one of my favorite kitchen tools. There’s something deeply satisfying about feeding a lump of dough through the rollers and suddenly becoming the type of person who casually has sheets of fresh pasta draped all over the kitchen.

Let’s Talk Ricotta

I love making homemade ricotta and honestly there’s something magical about watching milk transform into cheese in your own kitchen. I’ll do a full post on that soon because once you realize how simple it is, it becomes dangerous information.

But for this recipe, my favorite ricotta in the entire world is Bellwether Farms Basket Ricotta. Nothing compares to it in my opinion. It’s rich without being heavy, fluffy without being grainy, and tastes fresh and indulgent at the same time.

Murray’s makes a really good one too if that’s easier to find, but if you have the option? Get the basket ricotta.

Choosing Pears

Not all pears are created equal and some turn to watery mush the second heat touches them.

For this pasta I like:

Bartlett pears for softness and sweetness
Bosc pears if you want something slightly firmer and nuttier
Comice pears if you’re feeling fancy and dramatic

You want them ripe enough to smell fragrant near the stem but not so ripe they collapse when diced. If the pear feels like it could survive being thrown across the kitchen, it needs another day.

Make the Dough

Pile the flour onto the counter like every Italian grandmother in every movie ever made and create a well in the middle by pressing a bowl gently in the center of the mound. Add the eggs, yolks, olive oil, and salt.

Start mixing with a fork until it becomes a shaggy mess. Then knead it for about 8 to 10 minutes until smooth.

And listen — this part matters: The dough should feel alive. Soft but firm. Like pressing into your arm, not a countertop coaster.

Wrap it tightly and let it rest at least 30 minutes because gluten also needs emotional recovery time.

Make the Filling

Into a food processor add: ricotta, diced pear, toasted walnuts, parmesan, basil, nutmeg, lemon zest, and salt + pepper

Pulse until creamy but not completely smooth. You still want texture from the walnuts and pear.

Taste it and see if you need to add any other ingredients for your preferences.

Roll the Pasta

Cut the dough into sections and roll it through the KitchenAid attachment starting at the widest setting.

Fold it. Roll it again. Repeat until smooth.

Then gradually work thinner until you have long silky sheets.

You want the pasta thin enough to feel delicate but not so thin it dissolves the second boiling water looks at it.

Form the Beggar’s Purses

Pipe or spoon little dollops of filling every few inches across the pasta sheets.

Brush around the filling lightly with water.

Place another sheet on top and gently press around each mound to remove air pockets.

Then gather the pasta upward around the filling and pinch the tops together into little purses.

And please do not stress about making them identical. The slightly uneven ones are the pretty ones. Perfect pasta looks factory-made. Homemade pasta should look like someone with flour on their shirt made it while drinking wine.